You want Silver? I give you Silver.
. . . So much Silver do I give.
*****
Silver whistled quietly to himself sitting in his cell. The guard walked past and shot Silver
a contemptuous look, then spat into the cell and moved on, muttering to himself. Silver didn't do
much except stare pitifully out of the bars at the guard as he walked away. He sighed and leaned
back against the cold wall.
Silver had been wandering the nearer half of the galaxy, finding odd jobs here and there.
People were either fascinated by him, or suspicious of him. Usually, though, he could convince
the suspicious ones that he didn't mean any harm. Often enough, he wondered if that was really
the truth. Silver had a cunning streak within him that he would never be able to fully douse.
"Johnny boy, ya got yerself into a spot o' trouble here now," he said to the ceiling.
"T'ain't lookin' too good for ye."He shifted uncomfortably, feeling horribly off-balance. His
cybernetic limbs had been disabled, and he had just barely been able to talk them out of shutting
off his right eye. He looked down at the useless arm and leg, and noticed the patch where Jim
Hawkins had struck it with the kitchen utensil a good year, maybe year and a half before. "Ah,
Jimbo, if yeh were on'y here now to see ol' John. . ."
***
Doppler listened to Jim sympathetically, nodding and "Hmm"-ing whenever the story
provided a space for such. Finally, as Jim finished explaining about Silver being put into prison,
Doppler found his voice.
"Well, Jim, I know that you found something in Mr. Silver that most people would not. . .
*could* not see. And I understand that you must be quite distressed over this whole thing, but
Amelia has already told me all abou-"
"No, see, Doc," interrupted Jim, "We were wondering if you'd. . . y'know. . ."
Doppler stared at Jim for a moment. Aaron fidgeted nervously in the seat next to Jim.
Doppler did not speak a word for a bit, his gaze unwavering. "Jim. . . you don't mean. . ."
Jim glanced at Aaron, then nodded. "Yeah, Doc. I-"
"Oh, *Jim*!" cried Doppler, leaping up from his chair. Jim suddenly found himself in a
tight embrace, being nearly crushed by Doppler, who had pulled him up and wrapped his arms
around him in a hug. "Jim, I'm so honored that you've come to *me* for comfort in your time of
need! I'd always tried my best to be a good friend to you, but I'd just never felt like you'd opened
up to me and-"
"Woah! Easy, Doc!" Jim pulled out of Doppler's hug. "That's not what we came here
for! It's. . . uh. . . nice of you to offer, but. . ."
Doppler's face turned bright red. "Oh! Of. . . of course it wasn't! Ha ha! I was joking,
Jim! Yes!" He then sat down without another word, and folded his hands in his lap calmly. He
was the picture of dignity, save the remaining bright-red tint of his face. "Now! (Ahem), what did
you want to ask me? Tell me? Let me know about?"
"Well. . . Doc. . ." began Jim, not sure how to go about this. He thought for a moment
about the best approach to take on this to appeal to Doppler. "Doc. . . we know that you've got a
that great, uh, adventurous spirit," he began again (Doppler suddenly looked quite pleased with
himself), "And we were wondering if you could help us out with something. . . just a little thing.
Y'know. . . no big deal."
"Well, of course boys!" said Doppler, self-importantly. "What do you need?
Recommendation for research? Advice on an essay you're writing for school? Or maybe-" he
stopped suddenly, and stared at Jim, mouth hanging slightly open. "You aren't talking about. . ."
"A-heh-heh. . ."
***
He had been working in the kitchen when they had caught him. Of course, in this kitchen
(not a homey galley, either, and Silver was none too pleased by that), Silver was not the cook. He
was there to sweep up the peelings and mop up the drippings and scrub the dishes. It was not
work he minded, but it was not work he enjoyed, either. The problem was that blasted cook.
The cook thought the world of his food and of himself. If it wasn't his cooking, it wasn't
the best. Silver knew that it really wasn't important. . . didn't concern the likes of him. . .
absolutely not. . . and yet. . .
"Yeh'll be wantin' to add a bit more pepper there, now, Laddy," he mentioned
conversationally to the cook, as he moved along with his trusty mop. "Pinch o' pepper, and
p'raps a wee bit o' solaris seed, if'n the customer prefers the taste."
The cook turned around, a look of outrage on his face. "I beg your pardon?!"
"I was on'y offerin' a humble vet'rans opinion on-"
"How *dare* you?! A lowly. . . lowly. . . CABIN BOY such yourself has *no right* to
even suggest that I am not doing my job properly!"
"See here, now, I was on'y-"
"Not another word from you, sir, or I will see to it that you lose your job *tonight*!"
Silver stopped talking. He couldn't afford to lose this job. But, oh, how he wanted to put
that cybernetic arm of his to good use right then. . .
***
"Alright! Well, Jim, if it's that important to you, I'll do what I can!" said Doppler after
Jim and Aaron had explained the plan. "After all: what else have I got to do? Of course, Jim, I
don't want to burden your mother with my children," he added sternly. "Only if she agrees. Of
course I'll be happy to pay her for it, and you make sure she takes what I give her; your mother
has never accepted much of anything from me, but this is something I'd really like her to accept."
Jim nodded. "Yeah, Doc, whatever you say!" He couldn't believe it had been this easy.
Well, no, he had expected this to be easy, but he was glad that he had been right. "But, uh, do
you think Am- eh, Mrs. Doppler will go along with it?"
Doppler (smiling a bit at the sound of 'Mrs. Doppler'), replied, "Well, Jim, don't you
worry about her." He chuckled knowingly. "She's a bit more tame now that she's settled down
with a family. . . and a husband. . . heh heh. . ."
***
"Absolutely not."
"Please, dear? Pleeease?! Jim and Aaron *need* you, and you haven't been on a voyage
in such a long time-"
"Delbert, darling, this isn't a voyage, this is a *suicide* mission," Amelia cut in hotly.
"Doubtless we can take the two young men out of school, and even get into the prison, but the
idea that we will risk both of our reputations, both of our spotless records. . .! Well, mine may
have a few blurs here and there, but-"
"Amelia, please, listen to reason," pleaded Doppler. "Knowing Jim, he's going to go
whether he gets our help or not. And then he'll go to Juvenile Hall for a year and a few months or
so, and then he'll turn eighteen and will no longer be a minor. . ."
"And he'll be in prison, just as Silver is now," finished Amelia. "I know, Delbert, but. . ."
she looked up. His head was rested in his hands, his nose pointing to the ground, the picture of
pitiful despair. Amelia sighed. "You, sir, are turning me into a sympathetic, no-authority, sorry
excuse for a captain."
Doppler looked up, a smile on his face. "Oh, my dear, do you mean it? You'll come?"
Amelia leaned her head back and shut her eyes, hardly able to believe she was saying this.
"Yeeess, I'll do it." She then stood up. "But *I* am to be the voice of authority. *I* will give the
orders, *I* will run *my* ship. Is that perfectly clear?"
Doppler nodded eagerly. "I'll go and sign us a crew right n-"
"Ohhh, no ya don't!" interrupted Amelia. "I'll be hiring the crew in this round, despite
your *fantastic* judge of character the first time 'round."
Doppler smiled embarrassedly. "Of course, dear."
*****
I KNOW THE CHAPTERS ARE SHORT LEAVE ME ALONE. FROWN FACE.
I kidding. I do know the chapters are short, but I get impatient. I can understand why
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote a chapter a day for 'Treasure Island'.
. . . So much Silver do I give.
*****
Silver whistled quietly to himself sitting in his cell. The guard walked past and shot Silver
a contemptuous look, then spat into the cell and moved on, muttering to himself. Silver didn't do
much except stare pitifully out of the bars at the guard as he walked away. He sighed and leaned
back against the cold wall.
Silver had been wandering the nearer half of the galaxy, finding odd jobs here and there.
People were either fascinated by him, or suspicious of him. Usually, though, he could convince
the suspicious ones that he didn't mean any harm. Often enough, he wondered if that was really
the truth. Silver had a cunning streak within him that he would never be able to fully douse.
"Johnny boy, ya got yerself into a spot o' trouble here now," he said to the ceiling.
"T'ain't lookin' too good for ye."He shifted uncomfortably, feeling horribly off-balance. His
cybernetic limbs had been disabled, and he had just barely been able to talk them out of shutting
off his right eye. He looked down at the useless arm and leg, and noticed the patch where Jim
Hawkins had struck it with the kitchen utensil a good year, maybe year and a half before. "Ah,
Jimbo, if yeh were on'y here now to see ol' John. . ."
***
Doppler listened to Jim sympathetically, nodding and "Hmm"-ing whenever the story
provided a space for such. Finally, as Jim finished explaining about Silver being put into prison,
Doppler found his voice.
"Well, Jim, I know that you found something in Mr. Silver that most people would not. . .
*could* not see. And I understand that you must be quite distressed over this whole thing, but
Amelia has already told me all abou-"
"No, see, Doc," interrupted Jim, "We were wondering if you'd. . . y'know. . ."
Doppler stared at Jim for a moment. Aaron fidgeted nervously in the seat next to Jim.
Doppler did not speak a word for a bit, his gaze unwavering. "Jim. . . you don't mean. . ."
Jim glanced at Aaron, then nodded. "Yeah, Doc. I-"
"Oh, *Jim*!" cried Doppler, leaping up from his chair. Jim suddenly found himself in a
tight embrace, being nearly crushed by Doppler, who had pulled him up and wrapped his arms
around him in a hug. "Jim, I'm so honored that you've come to *me* for comfort in your time of
need! I'd always tried my best to be a good friend to you, but I'd just never felt like you'd opened
up to me and-"
"Woah! Easy, Doc!" Jim pulled out of Doppler's hug. "That's not what we came here
for! It's. . . uh. . . nice of you to offer, but. . ."
Doppler's face turned bright red. "Oh! Of. . . of course it wasn't! Ha ha! I was joking,
Jim! Yes!" He then sat down without another word, and folded his hands in his lap calmly. He
was the picture of dignity, save the remaining bright-red tint of his face. "Now! (Ahem), what did
you want to ask me? Tell me? Let me know about?"
"Well. . . Doc. . ." began Jim, not sure how to go about this. He thought for a moment
about the best approach to take on this to appeal to Doppler. "Doc. . . we know that you've got a
that great, uh, adventurous spirit," he began again (Doppler suddenly looked quite pleased with
himself), "And we were wondering if you could help us out with something. . . just a little thing.
Y'know. . . no big deal."
"Well, of course boys!" said Doppler, self-importantly. "What do you need?
Recommendation for research? Advice on an essay you're writing for school? Or maybe-" he
stopped suddenly, and stared at Jim, mouth hanging slightly open. "You aren't talking about. . ."
"A-heh-heh. . ."
***
He had been working in the kitchen when they had caught him. Of course, in this kitchen
(not a homey galley, either, and Silver was none too pleased by that), Silver was not the cook. He
was there to sweep up the peelings and mop up the drippings and scrub the dishes. It was not
work he minded, but it was not work he enjoyed, either. The problem was that blasted cook.
The cook thought the world of his food and of himself. If it wasn't his cooking, it wasn't
the best. Silver knew that it really wasn't important. . . didn't concern the likes of him. . .
absolutely not. . . and yet. . .
"Yeh'll be wantin' to add a bit more pepper there, now, Laddy," he mentioned
conversationally to the cook, as he moved along with his trusty mop. "Pinch o' pepper, and
p'raps a wee bit o' solaris seed, if'n the customer prefers the taste."
The cook turned around, a look of outrage on his face. "I beg your pardon?!"
"I was on'y offerin' a humble vet'rans opinion on-"
"How *dare* you?! A lowly. . . lowly. . . CABIN BOY such yourself has *no right* to
even suggest that I am not doing my job properly!"
"See here, now, I was on'y-"
"Not another word from you, sir, or I will see to it that you lose your job *tonight*!"
Silver stopped talking. He couldn't afford to lose this job. But, oh, how he wanted to put
that cybernetic arm of his to good use right then. . .
***
"Alright! Well, Jim, if it's that important to you, I'll do what I can!" said Doppler after
Jim and Aaron had explained the plan. "After all: what else have I got to do? Of course, Jim, I
don't want to burden your mother with my children," he added sternly. "Only if she agrees. Of
course I'll be happy to pay her for it, and you make sure she takes what I give her; your mother
has never accepted much of anything from me, but this is something I'd really like her to accept."
Jim nodded. "Yeah, Doc, whatever you say!" He couldn't believe it had been this easy.
Well, no, he had expected this to be easy, but he was glad that he had been right. "But, uh, do
you think Am- eh, Mrs. Doppler will go along with it?"
Doppler (smiling a bit at the sound of 'Mrs. Doppler'), replied, "Well, Jim, don't you
worry about her." He chuckled knowingly. "She's a bit more tame now that she's settled down
with a family. . . and a husband. . . heh heh. . ."
***
"Absolutely not."
"Please, dear? Pleeease?! Jim and Aaron *need* you, and you haven't been on a voyage
in such a long time-"
"Delbert, darling, this isn't a voyage, this is a *suicide* mission," Amelia cut in hotly.
"Doubtless we can take the two young men out of school, and even get into the prison, but the
idea that we will risk both of our reputations, both of our spotless records. . .! Well, mine may
have a few blurs here and there, but-"
"Amelia, please, listen to reason," pleaded Doppler. "Knowing Jim, he's going to go
whether he gets our help or not. And then he'll go to Juvenile Hall for a year and a few months or
so, and then he'll turn eighteen and will no longer be a minor. . ."
"And he'll be in prison, just as Silver is now," finished Amelia. "I know, Delbert, but. . ."
she looked up. His head was rested in his hands, his nose pointing to the ground, the picture of
pitiful despair. Amelia sighed. "You, sir, are turning me into a sympathetic, no-authority, sorry
excuse for a captain."
Doppler looked up, a smile on his face. "Oh, my dear, do you mean it? You'll come?"
Amelia leaned her head back and shut her eyes, hardly able to believe she was saying this.
"Yeeess, I'll do it." She then stood up. "But *I* am to be the voice of authority. *I* will give the
orders, *I* will run *my* ship. Is that perfectly clear?"
Doppler nodded eagerly. "I'll go and sign us a crew right n-"
"Ohhh, no ya don't!" interrupted Amelia. "I'll be hiring the crew in this round, despite
your *fantastic* judge of character the first time 'round."
Doppler smiled embarrassedly. "Of course, dear."
*****
I KNOW THE CHAPTERS ARE SHORT LEAVE ME ALONE. FROWN FACE.
I kidding. I do know the chapters are short, but I get impatient. I can understand why
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote a chapter a day for 'Treasure Island'.